What We May Never Do:
by HMS Jones
Summary: Izzie's blossoming relationship with Denny withers slightly when a beautiful black haired boy moved into the room next door. SLASH
1. Meet Other People

Okay, so I fully support Izzie and Denny's tragic love and all. But I love Denny. I love him as a character and I think he's mildly hot (even as Dean Winchester's dad. And anyone who knows me knows how much I love Dean Winchester.) And the thing is, when I love a character I want to ship them with Harry Potter. So here it is. Me shipping Denny Duqette with Harry Potter. In case you hadn't noticed, it's slash.

Description: Izzie's blossoming relationship with Denny withers slightly when a beautiful black haired boy moved into the room next door.

What We May Never Do:

Meet Other People.

It was Monday, and Izzie skipped slightly, finally managing to evade Alex, making her way to Denny's room. Her blonde hair bounced (she had curled it special) and her lips doled out perfect pink smiles out to everyone that passed by (she was wearing that pink lipstick that he had complimented last week). Izzie hadn't been able to see him in the weekend, and she was sure he was lonely – so she was going to make it up to him right now!

She veered round the last corner to his room, smile brighter than ever. Then froze. Three metres from his door, she stood. The bag of home cooked chocolate chip cookies she had made at home in her right hand and the sport (secretly porn) magazines in the other. There was some black haired boy-girl horning in on her turf! Izzie paused, breathed in, and then out. She steeled herself, assumed offense position and marched forward.

The door swung open under her foot and she plastered her smile back on her face – though by the widening of the dark haired now obviously a boy invader it wasn't that much of a disguise. Denny grinned at her, wide and happy and slightly dirty, like always. It filled her with familiar warmth, mellowing the chill caused by her uncontented life. Izzie held out her hand to the stranger, who was in hospital garb, obviously another patient. He had black hair and bright green eyes – eyes the colour of...of ... of _PICKLED FROGS!_ He could have been called handsome, but he looked like a big girl! With his big eyes and long eyelashes and naturally red as ripe apples lips the stranger really did look very effeminate. Izzie cast a doubtful eye on the happier-than-she-had-ever-seen-before Denny and wondered if this was actually a bad thing. Denny did seem to appreciate feminine beauty, or at least he had hers.

"Ah, hey, Izzie." Said Denny, he grinned and gestured prematurely to the black haired boy "Izzie, meet Harry. Harry, this is my extra special doctor, Doctor Izzie Stevens."

The stranger, Harry, smiled gently, it was a slightly boyish grin and she found herself smiling back without meaning to. They shook hands. She let go before he did. But he turned back to Denny first. Denny grinned at them both and said "Ah! Now my two favourite people have met!" he turned to Izzie "Harry may not have promised me sex, but he does tell me stories about his naughty boarding school days."

Harry rolled his eyes, shook his head and blushed slightly. He couldn't stop the smile worming its way into his heart. Izzie felt a rush of dislike of Harry and his lovely facial expressions and even more so when she saw Denny's eyes warm to a darker chocolate than they had been before. Harry laughed and Izzie found herself glaring and smiling falsely while Denny told Harry that she had promised to do things for him, sexy things, he added in a naughtily suggestive tone, in exchange for him not immediately shooting down the option to do all of the surgeries that had been suggested by herself and Dr Burke.

Harry smirked and wiggled her eyebrows at Izzie, before dropping a look at the expensive watch on his wrist. It looked like leather and gold, with fancy writing all over the face. He was obviously quite well off. Damnit.

"Sorry, Denny, I have a pre-op preparation thing coming along in like 5 minutes, so I'm going to go get ready for my first operation in Seattle Grace Hospital. See ya, Denny." He went to leave, then stopped "Oh, Bye Izzie. Have fun you guys."

The innuendo in his voice was obvious and it made Denny grin. Izzie frowned.

Oh, he had a cute English accent. That didn't suck at all. Not at all. Not even a little bit. It was fine. It was all fine.

"Oh Izzie, I don't think I'll be needing those any longer. Just dump them." He indicated to the sport magazines clasped tightly in Izzie's hand, she loosened her grip and tilted her head questioningly. His gaze slipped to the door that Harry had just exited through and her hand clenched around the magazines. She nodded, quickly, a jerk of her head really, spun on her heal and left, dropping the unwanted porn into the bin beside the dresser in Denny's room.

It was all good.

Ah, crap.


	2. Hold Hands

Izzie's blossoming relationship with Denny withers slightly when a beautiful black haired boy moves into the room next door.

What We May Never Do:

Hold Hands

It said a lot when Harry could tell from the expressions on his doctors faces that his condition was a lot worse than originally thought. They were as blank as could be except for the obvious pity and sadness in their eyes. Some of them like that blonde one tried to look sympathetic and optimistic, but there was a desperate, dark truth in their eyes that showed they didn't think he would survive.

He gripped the blanket around his hand, wishing he had told someone what was going on, wishing that he hadn't not wanted to worry them, wishing that for once in his life he had been less of a Gryffindor and let someone else take care of him. He closed his eyes and rested his head against his pillows. His doctor, a handsome dark headed surgeon that the nurses all called McDreamy, looked sympathetic and said,

"I know this is hard, Mr Potter, but really is crucial that we operate as soon as possible. What we uncovered in our earlier surgery is that the tumour is a lot bigger than we had first diagnosed. Our plan is to go in again and try to get as much of it out as we possibly can, then once you've recovered get you through chemotherapy and radiotherapy to get what's left."

The other doctors, surgical residents and his nurse nodded. He had been here so long that he recognised all of them, even if from the gossip he exchanged with his nurses. There was Doctor Sheppard, his neurosurgeon, Dr Piper, his neurologist, Dr Swender, his oncologist and Beth, his specialist nurse. Then there was Meredith Grey, who was Dr Sheppard's on and off lover and daughter to one of the 'greats' and O'Malley, who people called 007 because he froze in his first operation, got syphilis off of a nurse and was in love with Dr Grey, and the extremely preppy Izzie Stevens, who was a lingerie model to pay her way through medical school and was in a relationship with another intern (Alex Karev, who got around _a lot_.)

Harry leans back against his pillow and blocks out the doctors. If he had magic, he could have fixed this. But if he had magic, Voldemort would still be alive. He is dying slowly and painfully because he gave up everything to kill the worst Dark Lord of the century. The doctors slowly trudge out of the room. He can hear them talking about him; a couple of them sympathising with them, a few writing him off as a surgery and a massive tumour and nothing else. Doctor Sheppard tells them all to shut up and they do. There are only the stifled hospital noises after that, the muffled murmur that is silence to anyone who spends a lot of time in a hospital bed.

He lays there for a few seconds. He waits. The residents have moved away, and there is only minimal nurse movement outside of his room, so he slowly gets up. His head pulses with pain and his right arm will not hold his weight when he puts pressure on it. It has been getting more and more numb over the months. When he gets up his vision blurs and splits into two, but he shakes his head and his double vision disappears.

He cannot stay in this room for much longer. It is so cold and white and sterile. He had no cards or balloons because he is not – he _is not_ going to tell anyone about his tumour. He wants them here, but he does not want to be the reason for any of Mrs Weasley's new wrinkles.

He slowly makes his way across his room to the door. He's going to go see Denny. They had been friends with Denny since he got into the hospital. Harry had accidentally ended up in his room whilst looking for Mr Sheppard, and they had hit it off. They had talked about their conditions and their family. Denny had congratulated him on the semi-seriousness of his illness, apparently Denny 'won', because there was a higher chance of him dying from his disease.

He feels bad for taking Denny's gold in the race towards death and for being the one to tell him that Harry is probably going to die sometime soon in the future.

Denny would make him feel better. He would listen.

Harry made it down the corridor with little fuss. He had to stop occasionally to lean against a wall to catch his breath, ground himself and close his eyes to try and tame his headache. He gets concerned looks from patients and staff and family members, but he continues on.

He reaches Denny's room quickly and it's empty when he gets there. He leans against the doorway for a minute. Denny's eyes open slowly. The gentle brown of them softens when he catches sight of Harry. Harry knows that the devastation he feels is plain on his face.

Denny levers himself up and holds out a hand. Harry walks over and sits in the chair next to his bed. He holds Denny's hands. They sit there in silence for a second. Denny does not talk to him, give him words of false comfort or platitudes of 'a better place'. He just sits there, hold Harry's hand.

He can feel the tears trailing down his face.

"They say it's bigger than they thought. That they couldn't operate this time but they have to go in again and there's a chance I won't survive..."

Izzy paused outside the room. She had felt sorry before but now she felt terrible. He was dying and he was crying.

"Why don't you call your family? They'll want to know, you can't leave them in the dark, Harry."

"I can't tell them. They've already been through too much."

Izzy leans against the wall and closes his eyes. Denny is all Harry has right now.

* * *

_yeah, Harry isn't in the room next door. get over it, he has a neuro cancer problem, he wouldn't be. whatever. Enjoy the chapter. :) _

_and please, review. :)_

_because reviews spin me right round, baby, right round, like a record, ababy, right round, round round. :)_


End file.
